


Starry Skies

by SinfulZebras



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, F/M, Hispanic Character, M/M, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, Original Wiccan Characters, Polyamorous Parents, Teen Crush, Teen Witch, Wicca, Witchcraft, accurate (ish?) description of witchcraft, am i doing this right, newbie writer, tea fueled work, witchy vibes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinfulZebras/pseuds/SinfulZebras
Summary: Marla, who is a witch, faces teenage crushes, dealing with her witchcraft, school things, and more.In other words:I have no idea how to write summaries and I just wanted to write a work with a witch character. Hopefully romance and witchy things. I dunno, read it?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Starry Skies

_...and the reason I can’t use my magic was my mother, my adopted mother._

Marla threw her pencil across the room, narrowly missing her dad, who jumped back in overexaggerated surprise. “Whoa there, Nelly! What’s the matter?” Marla scowled at her dad’s use of _Nelly_ , before saying, “There’s an assignment in class for a fictional story based on your real life, and I am BLOWING IT,” “Well jeez, the way you’re acting, it seems like this story matters for your grades!” Marla narrowed her eyes at her dad, saying in a very stilted tone, “The. Story. Does. Matter. For. My. GRADES.” 

Marla’s pop chose this very moment to enter the kitchen. For a man involved with her dad, he was the exact opposite of him, tall and slender, with brown hair. He took note of the situation and tried to slowly back out of the room. “NOT SO FAST DENNY,” the sentence came from Marla’s dad, “You’ve gotta suffer too.” Denny sighed and stepped back in, “Fine. What’s the problem.” 

Marla threw one last scornful look at her dad before turning to her pop, “Well, first of all, this doofus isn’t even using full dad jokes, just pitiful excuses for them. Second of all, I’m coming up BLANK for this STUPID assignment!” Her pop stepped behind her, squinting at the paper, “You have like two sentences,” he pointed out _very_ helpfully, not noticing how Marla’s face was close to turning purple. “Yes. I am aware of that.” Her pop decided to add more to his sentence, not noticing her ire, “Why don’t you write about being a witch? I can’t speak for you, but your mom has plenty of info.” Marla stared at him with a blank face, “Bruh. That IS what I was trying to write about.” Her pop sighed and made a random hand motion, “Yes, but try doing more realistic shit.” 

Marla decided to stare at her paper some more, making no effort for writing anything at all. Her dad and pop started making coffee and doing normal grownup morning things, paying no attention at all to the sullen sixteen year old sitting at the table. Her dad was scooping coffee grounds into the french press when faint footsteps came from the upstairs. Every single one of them froze and looked upstairs. The footsteps made their way to the stairwell, not stopping even once. With the sound of the footsteps going downstairs, everyone exploded into action. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT,” Marla said a constant stream of shits under her breath while running around the kitchen retrieving plates and mugs and silverware from their respective cupboards. 

Her dad frantically stared at the boiling water, willing it to boil faster. 

Her pop chopped various fruits and poured milk, all in a frenzy.

Somehow, they managed to set the whole table with breakfast and coffee, just as the footsteps came down the hallway. When the footsteps stepped into the doorway, they revealed themselves to be a woman, dressed in a robe and pajamas. 

Marla leaned herself casually against the table, pretending like she didn't just make breakfast and set the table in .5 seconds, “Oh, hey, Mama. Good morning!” Marla’s pop and dad followed suit, murmuring greetings after posing themselves. Marla’s mama grunted, “Hrm. Coffee. Then talk.” 

Marla’s dad handed a mug to her mama, pressing a kiss into her cheek, “Mornin’ Bettsey.” The Bettsey in question wrapped an arm around his waist, taking a sip of coffee at the same time, “Mmm. Morning, Dave.” Marla’s pop also went over and kissed Bettsey briefly. 

“Blergh.” This came from Marla, speaking into her tea mug. “What was that?” Her mama stared at her, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, uh, nothing, Mama.” “Thought so.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a short and bland breakfast, punctuated with nothing but “Mmm.” and “this is good”, Marla hustled up to her room, tasked with the worst chore of all, getting dressed for school. 

Marla wasted no time looking at her closet, instead choosing to call her best friend, Chloé, who insisted she had no idea why her name was spelled that way. To Marla’s shock and dismay, her best friend did NOT pick up. Instead, her phone buzzed with a text.

**TheQueenlyE:** **Literally in a “family meeting” M**

Marla sighed and typed. 

**TheQueenlyE:** **Literally in a “family meeting” M.**

**IPut** **_BI_ ** **in** **_BI_ ** **tch: but it’s a fashion emergencyyyyyyyyyy**

**IPut** **_BI_ ** **in** **_BI_ ** **tch: also bruh why you in a meeting in the MORNING**

**TheQueenlyE: omg emergencyyyyyyy**

**TheQueenlyE:** _*gif of girl jumping up and down*_

**The QueenlyE: Told them it’s an Emergen-C**

**TheQueenlyE: They understand.**

Marla’s phone ran with the ringtone “Boss Bitch” by Doja Cat. Marla hit accept, and was immediately bombarded with a ranting Chloé, “Okay, so you have tan skin, but it’s pink? Wait what, how does that work? Okay, never mind, you also have brown hair. NO YOU DYED IT. Okay so blonde hair and blue eyes, wait. Why do you look like a surfer chick? You’re literally a Latina. Okay, wear the turquoise wrap dress, with the cowboy boots.” 

Marla internally facepalmed, “NO, Chloé. I am NOT wearing that to school.” There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Ughhhhhhh, fine. You have jeans? Wait, what am I asking, that’s a ridiculous question. Wear your jeans and that t-shirt with the Hamilton thing on it.” 

Marla checked her closet, pulling out jeans with rips on the knees, from designers who think it’s the _new thing kids are wearing,_ and a soft black shirt with color blocked Schuyler sisters on it. Double checking the outfit, she turned her attention back to the phone,

“Looks acceptable. I like the shirt. I don’t like the no-pocket jeans.” 

“Right!!! Okay, it’s BETTER than ‘acceptable’. You’ll look good.”

Marla sighed, “I’m hoping for ‘fitting in’.”

Chloé gasped, “No, no, no. You need to look good. Trust me. Bye!”

With that, the line went dead, leaving Marla to ponder her decision to entrust her clothes to Chloé. Of course, she could always wear something else, but Chloé loved to pick out clothes, and Marla loved to make people happy. Marla decided to wear the outfit, taking a jacket, just in case. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marla arrived at her history class before everyone else like always, but when she stepped inside the classroom, there was already someone sitting down. They had their head down, but looked up when she opened the door, flashing a grin that was at least 2 times bigger than Marla’s smile. They waved, and pointed to the seat next to them, a questioning look on their face. 

Marla weighed the pros and cons briefly in her head before taking the seat next to the kid. There wasn’t really any harm in knowing a new kid, not when you had friends in the class already. 

The kid turned towards her when she sat down. _Is it possible for their smile to get wider?_ They interrupted her thoughts by thrusting out a hand under her nose, “Hi! I’m Dusty! What’s your name, pronouns, and favorite hobbies?” 

Marla was startled for a second, before tentatively taking their hand and responding, “Hello. My name’s Marla, but if you get to know me better you can call me ‘M’. Pronouns are she/her, and I have too many hobbies to list right now. You?”

“Well, you heard my name already. My pronouns are he/him, but I’m experimenting, so I’ll let you know if that changes. I like anything lots of things too, but I’m into feminist clubs and gymnastics right now!” 

Marla arched an eyebrow, “Feminism, huh?”

“Oh, yeah! My sister was really active in that sort of stuff, and my family is super liberal, so I’m into it too! Also, you’ve really got that mom look down pat.”

At that, Marla threw her head back and laughed, “Thank you! I get it from my mama!”

When she looked back at him, his cheeks were flushed red. “Sorry, I tend to speak without thinking. My mom calls it the Curse of Dusty.” 

“Don’t worry! I ain't one to talk. I speak before thinking too.”

Dusty nodded, and then looked towards the door as a stream of students came in the door, just barely on time. Chloé flounced in the door, sliding into the seat next to Marla, “Who’s the new kid? They’re cuuuuuttteee.” 

Marla rolled her eyes, “His name is Dusty, but he might change his pronouns sometime. Introduce yourself later.” 

Chloé nodded and turned away, just as the teacher came into the room.

At Chloé’s words, Marla thought about Dusty. The more she thought about him, the more she got stomach butterflies. The more she got stomach butterflies, the more she thought about him. It was an endless cycle throughout the day, and at the end of school, Marla came to a terrible conclusion. 

_The new kid was HOT, and she had a crush._

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first work, and I'm honestly pretty proud of it! Idk if anyone will actually read it, but if you do, I'd love to hear some constructive criticism! I'm not comfortable with posting real fanfiction yet, so I figured that original works would do. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
